S4^> 


UC-HKLF 


n 


OM3 


•So 


HENRY  TR1PP; 


OTHER  STORIES 


YOOflg, 


PHILADELPHIA : 

HAYES   &   ZELL,    PUBLISHERS, 
193  MARKET  STREET. 


1 1 


"»'«l]llj 


HENHY   TIUPP; 


OR, 


SHAKING  THE   CRAB-TREE, 

AND 

OTHER  STORIES, 
FOR   THE   YOUNG. 

BY  MRS.  LOVECHILD.  / 


PHILADELPHIA: 

HAYES  &  ZELL,    PUBLISHERS, 

193  MARKET  STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  .year  1849,  by 
WILLIAM    LOCKEN. 

In  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 
in  and  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


Stereotyped  by  George  Charles, 
No.  9  Sansom  Street,  Fhila. 


CONTENTS. 

Henry  Tripp,  or  Shaking  the  Crab-tree,       -        -        -          5 
The  Generous  Knife-grinder,    -----        *  31 

The  Baron  du  Moley,          ......        35 

Heroism  of  Joseph  Ignace,       -        -        -        -        -        -  39 

The  Boatman, .--45 

John  Howard,          --------  64 

The  Truant, 78 

Preservation  of  two  Brothers,  -        -        -        -        -        -  81 

The  Caliph  Reclaimed,        ------       89 

The  Boston  Boys, ---93 

(3) 


975908 


HENRY  TRIPP: 

OR,  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

"  Up  in  the  morning  early, 

The  birds  are  on  the  wing ; 
The  air  is  full  of  music  ,s,w*ek — 
How  merrily  they  sing." 

HERE  was  once  a  very  pretty 
farm  in  Berkshire,  called  the 
Vale.  It  was  really  a  delight- 
ful spot,  and  any  one  who 
wras  not  desperately  wicked  might  have 
been  quite  happy  there.  Nature  seemed 
as  if  she  had  specially  selected  it  for  some 

5 


f}  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

kindly-disposed  person,  and  there  was  one 
of  the  kindest  farmers  in  the  world  lived 
there.  He  was  a  comfortable-looking,  rosy- 
faced  man,  with  a  most  pleasing  counte- 
nance ;  and  no  one  could  talk  to  him  or  be 
m  his  company  without  feeling  happy. 
He  seemed  to  live  and  thrive  upon  the  hap- 
piness of  others,  for  when  he  saw  them 
happy  he  was  the  more  so  himself,  and  life 
seemed  very  sweet  to  all  who  worked  for 
him  and  with  him. 

He  was  industrious,  and  therefore  he  was 
prosperous ;  he  was  prosperous,  and  there- 
fore he  was  happy ;  for  his  industry  pro- 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  7 

duced  both  health  and  comfort,  and  the 
means  of  doing  good  to  others.  But  though 
God  blessed  his  labours  with  plenty  every 
year,  and  his  barns  were  always  well  stored, 
and  his  stock  abundant  beyond  that  of 
most  others  farmers,  yet  he  was  frugal.  He 
never  wasted  any  thing,  nor  would  he  allow 
others  to  do  so.  He  knew  that  though  he 
had  plenty,  yet  there  were  many  thousands 
of  persons  to  whom  that  which  might  be 
wrasted  would  be  a  blessing ;  and  if  there 
was  any  spare  milk,  or  any  thing  else  not 
likely  to  be  used  in  the  farm-house,  he  al- 
ways had  it  distributed  to  the  deserving 


8  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

poor  who  lived  near  him.  And  he  was  so 
wise  in  the  distribution  of  his  kindness ! 
He  did  not  give  always  to  one  poor  person 
and  never  to  another  equally  deserving,  but 
he  had  it  all  shared  amongst  them  in  turns. 
He  knew  well  where  each  poor  person  lived, 
for  he  often  called  to  see  those  who  were 
deserving,  and  he  wrould  tell  the  dairymaid 
to  send  down  to  any  one  (whose  wrants  oc- 
curred to  him)  to  say  that  there  was  some- 
thing for  them  at  the  farm.  By  this  means 
he  prevented  poor  neighbours  from  becom- 
ing jealous  of  each  other,  and  no  one  de- 
pended upon  charity  from  the  farm,  instead 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  9 

of  working  industriously,  as  they  ought,  for 
their  living. 

Now,  it  may  perhaps  appear  to  my  little 
readers  that  it  was  all  very  easy  for  Farmer 
Tripp  to  he  kind  and  good-natured  hecause 
he  had  plenty  ;  but  they  must  not  conclude 
that  having  plenty  always  includes  a  good- 
will towards  our  fellow  creatures,,  and  a  de- 
sire to  benefit  them. 

Oh,  no !  There  are  very  many  persons 
who  have  more  thousands  of  dollars  than 
they  know  what  to  do  with,  and  yet  they 
never  think  of  the  poor ;  they  are  so  com- 
fortable themselves  that  they  think  no  one 


10  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

else  wants.  But  I  think  I  hear  some  of 
my  little  readers  say,  "  What  a  pity  it  is 
Farmer  Tripp  had  no  little  boys  and  girls ; 
for  they  must  have  been  very  happy  chil- 
dren, and  their  mother  must  have  been 
a  happy  mother  to  know  that  they  had  so 
kind  a  father !"  But  I  will  at  once  ease 
their  fears  in  this  respect,  by  telling  them 
that  there  was  a  Mrs.  Tripp,  and  there 
were  also  two  sons  and  one  daughter,  and, 
as  might  be  expected,  they  were  very 
happy.  Now  I  have  told  you  that  Farmer 
Tripp  was  prosperous  and  happy,  and  I 
will  also  tell  you,  that  when  once  a  man 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  1 1 

has  become  settled  in  the  world,  he  seldom 
fails,  unless  from  some  fault  of  his  own. 
or  from  some  unforeseen  and  serious  misfor- 
tune, and  that  was  not  the  case  with  Far- 
mer Tripp.  So  we  will  see  how  the  two 
sons  got  on,  that  you,  my  little  friends, 
may  take  a  lesson  from  their  life. 

Harry  and  John  were  the  names  of  these 
two  sons.  Harry  was  the  eldest,  and  he 
was  of  a  good-natured  disposition,  and  did 
no  harm  to  any  one ;  but  then  he  did  very 
little,  if  any,  good,  and  he  scarcely  ever 
thought  of  being  kind  or  attentive  to  his 
parents,  or  to  any  one  else,  unless  John  put 


12  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

him  in  mind  of  it  by  setting  him  an  exam- 
ple. Harry  had  nothing  vicious  or  unkind 
about  him  ;  but  he  seemed  too  comfortable 
himself,  like  the  rich  persons  I  have  men- 
tioned before,  to  think  much  of  the  happi- 
ness of  others.  But  it  was  a  very  united 
family,  though  there  was  this  defect  in 
Harry's  character  ;  and  Farmer  Tripp  took 
great  pains  with  his  sons.  He  set  them  a 
good  example,  which  is  a  very  important 
thing,  and  he  also  told  them  that  they 
must  be  industrious  while  they  were  young ; 
for  he  should  not  always  be  with  them  to 
watch  over  their  welfare.  He  gave  certain 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  13 

parts  of  the  farm  in  charge  by  turns  to 
each;  sometimes  one  had  the  barns  and 
work  of  the  homestead,  as  it  is  called,  and 
the  other,  the  out-of-door  work,  and  so  they 
changed  about.  They  had  been  to  school, 
and  were  possessed  of  a  good  plain  educa- 
tion, which  was  suited  to  the  state  of  life 
in  which  they  were  placed,  and  they  were 
in  every  way  prepared  to  make  progress  in 
the  world. 

Well,  years  went  on  in  this  way,  and  at 
last  Farmer  Tripp  died,  much  to  the  regret 
of  every  one  who  knew  him.  He  died 
rich,  and  divided  his  property  amongst  his 


14  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

family  in  such  a  way  that  all  were  satisfied. 
He  left  all  the  property  at  the  farm  to 
Harry,  and  to  John  he  left  a  sum  of  money 
sufficient  for  him  to  begin  farming ;  and 
they  were  bound  by  their  father's  will  to 
allow  their  mother  and  sister  enough  to 
maintain  them  in  the  same  comfort  they 
had  enjoyed  when  their  father  was  alive. 

They  had  a  fair  and  even  start  in  the 
world  with  equal  means,  and  any  one  would 
have  thought  that  each  would  become  as 
wealthy  and  as  much  beloved  as  their 
father  had  been  ;  but  we  shall  see  that  it  is 
possible  for  well  directed  people  to  go  wrong. 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  15 

John,  with  the  money  his  father  had  left 
him,  took  a  good  farm  in  the  same  county, 
which  he  cultivated  with  great  care  and 
skill ;  and  he  met  with  the  same  success, 
and  the  same  affectionate  regard  from  all 
who  knew  him  that  his  father  had  done. 
He  was  now  a  man,  and  had  little  children 
of  his  own ;  but  his  friends,  and  all  those 
who  knew  him,  alwrays  called  him  Master 
John,  because  they  had  been  so  long  used 
to  call  him  so. 

All  was  peace  and  prosperity;  and  all 
things  wrent  on  with  him  as  well  as 
he,  and  his  best  friends  could  wish:  so 


16  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

he  had  reason  to  be  satisfied,  and  he  was 
so. 

We  will  now  take  a  peep  at  Harry  and 
his  affairs,  and  see  how  he  got  on. 

Every  thing  at  the  Vale  went  on  for 
some  time  much  in  the  same  way  it  had 
done  during  old  Farmer  Tripp's  time.  All 
were  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  their 
former  master,  and  they  felt  that  those 
ways  were  right ;  for  they  had  made  every 
one  happy.  We  have  said,  however,  that 
Harry  (I  suppose  we  must  now  call  him 
Mr.  Harry)  was  of  an  easy  disposition,  and 
easy  dispositions  do  not  always  obtain  sue- 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  17 

cess.  It  is  a  difficult  thing  for  any  one  to 
know  how  to  conduct  himself  under  the 
sudden  possession  of  wealth,  and  so  Mr. 
Harry  Tripp  found  it. 

When  he  became  his  own  master,  as  it 
is  sometimes  called,  he  of  course  felt  that 
he  had  no  longer  the  restraint  of  a  father 
over  him,  and  he  thought  he  might  indulge 
himself  a  little  by  joining  in  the  pursuits 
of  his  rich  neighbours.  He  now  and  then 
went  out  with  them  fox-hunting,  or  stag- 
hunting,  and  after  fox-hunting  came  hunt- 
ing dinners,  and  hunting  dinners  brought 
late  hours,  and  late  hours  did  not  bring 


18  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

early  rising,  so  Mr.  Harry  Tripp  was  often 
in  bed  when  every  one  else  was  at  work. 

Now  he  might  have  done  these  things 
once  now  and  then,  and  no  ill  perhaps 
would  have  come  of  it ;  but  it  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  fix  a  boundary  to  such  pleasures, 
and  he  indulged  in  them  very  freely. 

Then,  after  a  while,  it  became  known 
pretty  well  in  the  farm  that  Mr.  Harry 
Tripp  did  not  rise  very  early,  and  his  ex- 
ample was  not  lost  upon  his  servants.  They 
thought  he  was  what  is  called  a  jolly  fel- 
low, and  they  indulged  themselves  late  at 
the  ale-house,  in  drinking  and  talking  about 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  19 

the  hunting  abilities  of  their  master — how 
well  he  could  leap  over  a  hedge  or  a  ditch, 
how  certain  he  was  always  to  come  in  at 
the  death  of  the  fox  or  the  stag,  and  such 
like  conversation,  till  it  was  very  late  ;  and 
late  hours  did  not  make  them  rise  early 
any  more  than  their  master ;  but  they  felt 
no  fear,  for  their  master  was  sure  to  be  in 
bed  till  eight  o'clock,  and  there  was  plenty 
of  time  between  four  o'clock  (the  time  when 
they  should  have  been  up)  and  eight,  and 
it  was  very  often  much  nearer  eight  than 
four  when  the  business  of  the  farm  com- 
menced. 


20  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

Well,  Mr.  Harry  Tripp  did  not  see  any 
of  these  goings  on ;  but  he  severely  felt 
them  in  the  end,  as  we  shall  see. 

About  ten  years  after  the  death  of  old 
Farmer  Tripp,  it  was  talked  about  the 
neighbourhood  that  Mr.  Harry  Tripp'a 
affairs  were  all  going  wrong.  The  family 
wrere  not  so  respectably  dressed  as  they 
used  to  be,  and  every  thing  about  the  farm 
looked  poor.  At  last  it  was  reported  that 
Mr.  Harry  Tripp  wanted  to  borrow  money, 
which  astonished  some,  but  made  others 
shake  their  heads,  as  if  to  say,  Cfc  I  expected 
it  would  be  so."  He  had  tried  all  his  hunt- 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  21 

ing  friends,  but  they  were  much  more 
ready  to  give  him  an  excuse  than  to  lend 
him  money ;  so  he  was  at  last  driven  to  ask 
his  brother. 

John  Tripp  had  become,  as  we  have 
read  in  the  early  part  of  this  story,  a  rich 
man  for  a  farmer,  and  a  few  hundreds,  or 
even  thousands  of  pounds  were  always  at 
his  command  for  a  good  purpose.  But  he 
had  watched  his  brother's  ways  for  some 
time  with  sorrow,  and  he  met  him  on  such 
an  occasion  as  that  of  borrowing  money 
with  much  grief. 

Three  hundred  pounds  was  the  sum  Mr. 


22  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

Harry  Tripp  wanted  to  borrow,  and  when 
he  had  told  all  the  supposed  causes  of  his 
misfortunes,  he  expressed  his  hope  that  his 
brother  would  save  him  from  that  ruin 
which  must  follow  if  he  refused. 

Mr.  John  listened  attentively,  and  with 
many  kind  feelings,  and  at  last  addressed 
his  brother  thus: — "Harry,"  said  he, 
"  trouble  will  come  upon  some  of  us  when 
we  do  not  expect  it,  and  if  there  can  be 
any  consolation  in  such  a  case,  it  is  the  con- 
viction that  we  could  not  have  prevented 
it.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  felt 
that  conviction  ;  I  hope  you  have.  But  I 


SHAKIJNG  THE  CRAB-TREE.  23 

will  tell  you  what  I  will  do  for  you.  I  will 
not  lend  you  what  you  ask,  but  I  will  GIVE 
you  three  hundred  pounds  at  the  end  of  a 
month  from  this  time  if  you  will  go  and 
shake  the  old  crab-tree,  which  grows  at  the 
farthest  end  of  your  farm,  every  morn- 
ing, at  four  o'clock,  during  the  ensuing 
month." 

Harry's  heart,  which  was  very  sad  when 
he  first  met  his  brother,  now  bounded  with 
joy,  and  such  joy  as  he  had  not  felt  for  a 
long  time.  He  was  filled  with  astonish- 
ment that  John  should  be  so  unexpectedly 
kind,  and  he  promised  most  earnestly  to 


24  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

shake  the  crab  tree  to  pieces  if  that  would 
please  him. 

The  brothers  then  parted,  and  Mr. 
Harry  Tripp  wondered,  as  he  travelled 
along  the  road  home,  what  could  be  his 
brother's  object  in  making  so  strange  a  re- 
quest, and  he  at  last  decided  it  wras  a  whim. 
He,  however,  went  home  well  pleased,  and 
that  night  went  to  bed  early. 

Now  Mr.  Harry  Tripp  was  a  sensible 
man,  and  knew  very  well  how  farming 
business  should  be  conducted,  and  it  was 
not  ignorance,  but  negligence  that  occa- 
sioned his  troubles.  He  awoke  next  morn- 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  25 

ing  and  dressed  himself,  but  on  going  down 
stairs  he  found  that  it  was  past  six  o'clock. 
He  felt  very  much  vexed  that  he  had  over- 
slept himself,  but  thought  that  as  every  one 
was  so  still  in  the  house  that  the  clock  was 
wrong;  so  he  called  for  Sally,  the  house 
servant,  to  ask  her  whether  the  clock  was 
right;  but  Sally  was  soundly  asleep.  He 
then  called  Betty,  the  dairy-maid ;  but 
Betty  was  asleep  too.  He  next  called  Tom, 
who  looked  after  the  horses,  but  Tom  was 
asleep  also.  He  then  felt  sure  that  the 
clock  was  wrong;  so  he  went  into  the 
high  road,  and  ventured  to  ask  a  stranger 


26  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

passing   by,  who  told  him  it  was   nearly 
seven  o'clock. 

Mr.  Harry  returned  pretty  quickly  to 
the  house,  and  gave  them  all  proof  that  he 
at  least  wras  up.  All  excused  themselves 
on  account  of  over  sleeping,  and  wondered 
what  accident  had  made  their  master  get 
up  so  very  early,  and  all  passed  off  amidst 
his  scoldings  and  angry  looks.  That  even- 
ing Farmer  Tripp  again  went  to  bed  bent 
on  fulfilling  his  promise  about  the  crab- 
tree.  When  he  awoke,  however,  and  went 
down  stairs,  he  found  that  it  was  past  five 
o'clock,  and  again  he  was  angry  with  him- 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  27 

self.  He,  however,  walked  out  into  the 
farm-yard,  and  in  walking  round  the  build- 
ings observed  that  none  of  his  servants  were 
at  their  work ;  but  he  saw  a  strange  man 
coming  out  of  his  barn  with  a  sack  of 
wheat  on  his  back;  and  on  Mr.  Harry 
asking  where  he  was  going  to  with  it,  he 
said,  "  no  where  ;"  and,  throwing  it  down 
violently  against  Mr.  Tripp,  laid  him 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  made  his 
escape. 

Long  did  the  farmer  wait  for  his  servants 
to  appear.  One  by  one  they  dropped  in, 
each  one  as  much  astonished  at  the  sight  of 


28  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

his  master  as  if  he  had  been  an  apparition, 
but  all  prepared  with  a  plausible  excuse. 

It  was  many  days  before  Farmer  Tripp 
could  get  up  so  early  as  four  o'clock,  but 
he  always  found  some  rew7ard  for  his  early 
rising,  by  detecting  the  evil  doings  of  his 
servants.  One  morning  he  found  a  valu- 
able cow  in  the  barn,  eating  new  wheat, 
which  might  have  killed  her,  and  there 
was  no  one  at  hand  to  prevent  her.  An- 
other morning  he  found  a  man  quietly 
driving  away  several  sheep  into  an  adjoin- 
ing wood,  which  he  meant  to  steal.  Many, 
very  many,  were  the  rewards  of  this  sort 


SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE.  £g 

which  he  met  with,  each  morning  that  he 
went  forth. 

The  report  now  went  about  that  Farmer 
Tripp  had  become  a  reformed  man,  and 
that  good  must  come  of  it.  His  neigh- 
bours welcomed  him,  and  those  who  had 
before  refused  to  trust  him,  now  showed 
no  reluctance.  He  saw  clearly  what  his 
brother's  scheme  was  in  telling  him  to 
shake  the  old  crab -tree  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  He  persevered  in  his  task, 
though  conviction  had  soon  come  upon 
him  forcibly,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month 
how  delighted  was  he  to  see  his  brother 


30  SHAKING  THE  CRAB-TREE. 

John  ride  up  to  the  door  to  fulfil  his  pro- 
mise as  faithfully  as  Harry  had  performed 
his  strange  commission. 

It  was  a  gentle,  hut  effective  reproof,  and 
one  that  did  credit  both  to  John's  head  and 
heart ;  and  it  caused  a  warm  attachment 
between  the  brothers,  which  lasted  as  long 
as  they  lived. 


gjm 

THE  GENEROUS  KNIFE-GRINDER. 

NTHONY  BONAFOX, 

aged  forty  years,  a  na- 
tive of  the  department 
of  Cantal  in  France,  ex- 
ercised in  Paris  the  trade 
of  a  knife-grinder,  and 
lodged  in  the  same  house  with  a  poor  widow, 
Mrs.  Drouillant,  who  was  sixty  years  of  age. 
Numerous  testimonials  witnessed  the 
merit  and  misfortunes  of  this  woman.  She  had 
had  twelve  children,  and  had  brought  them 

(31) 


32  THE  GENEROUS  KNIFE-GRINDER. 

all  up  respectably.  There  remained  to  her 
but  one,  a  boy  of  twelve  years  old  when 
her  husband  died. 

This  unfortunate  event  reduced  her  to 
absolute  want  and  deprived  her  of  the 
means  of  giving  an  education  and  a  trade 
to  her  son.  The  knife-grinder,  who  had 
no  means  of  support  but  the  product  of  his 
daily  labours,  was  touched  with  the  mis- 
fortunes of  the  mother  and  the  destitute 
condition  of  the  son.  He  began  by  giving 
them  some  assistance,  which  the  widow 
gratefully  acknowledged. 

Soon  after  the  widow  had  an  attack  of 


THE  GENEROUS  KNIFE-GRINDER.  33 

paralysis  ;  Bonafox  opposed  the  proposition 
to  convey  her  to  the  hospital,  and  made 
sacrifices  to  enable  her  to  remain  and  re- 
ceive medical  treatment  at  home. 

Her  son  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  stove- 
maker.  The  worthy  knife-grinder  fur- 
nished what  was  necessary  for  his  support 
and  bought  his  clothes.  The  second  attack 
of  paralysis  fell  still  more  heavily  upon  the 
widow;  she  wras  deprived  of  the  use  of 
one  of  her  arms,  and  could  not  walk  with- 
out a  crutch.  This  new  misfortune  only 
stimulated  still  more  the  zeal  and  benevo- 
lence of  Bonafox.  He  made  still  greater 

3 


34  THE  GENEROUS  KNIFE-GRINDER. 

sacrifices  to  assist  her  and  her  son,  who 
was  thus  enabled  to  complete  the  term  of 
his  apprenticeship.  This  long-continued 
and  touching  benevolence  of  a  man  in  the 
humblest  walk  of  life  is  worthy  to  be  pro- 
posed as  an  example  to  those  who  enjoy 
more  extensive  means  of  rendering  assist- 
ance to  the  unfortunate. 


THE  BARON  DU  MOLEY. 

AEON  DU  MOLEY 

auditor  to  the  French 
council  of  state,  wras 
appointed  in  1810  to 
the  office  of  prefect  of 
Cote  d'Or,  In  the 
prime  of  life  he  was  enjoying  a  prosperous 
fortune  in  the  society  of  a  charming  family, 
and  surrounded  hy  a  circle  of  attached 
friends. 

In   1812  a  party  of   Spanish    prisoners 

(35) 


36  THE  BARON  DU  MOLEY. 

were  sent  to  Dijon,  where  the  typhus  fever 
was  raging.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  prefect 
of  Cote  d'Or  to  provide  against  the  danger 
of  contagion.  In  this  he  was  not  found 
wanting.  Bedding,  medical  attendance, 
and  personal  services,  were  cheerfully 
afforded.  Scarcely,  however,  were  the  sick 
installed  in  their  asylum  when  the  fever 
redoubled  its  ravages  ;  and  soon  after  a  new 
misfortune  came  upon  them.  A  fire  break- 
ing out  in  the  neighbourhood  soon  spread 
to  the  quarters  of  the  sick.  It  became  ne- 
cessary to  remove  them  without  the  least 
delay.  In  vain  did  the  prefect  demand  as- 


THE  BARON  DU  MOLEY.  37 

sistance  for  this  purpose.  The  exertion  of 
authority  and  the  offer  of  a  splendid  reward, 
were  equally  unavailing.  Not  one  of  the 
crowd  of  people  present  would  brave  the 
united  danger  of  fire  and  contagion.  Even 
the  hospital  attendants  shrunk  aghast  from 
so  perilous  an  office.  Then  it  was  that  the 
heroic  prefect  himself  threw  off  his  coat, 
sprang  into  the  building,  and  bore  forth  the 
sick  in  his  own  arms.  His  secretary  was 
the  only  person  who  durst  follow  his  noble 
example. 

This  was  about  the  24th  of  March,  1812. 
The  same  evening  the  prefect  was  seized 


38 


THE  BARON  DU  MOLEY. 


with  the  typhus  fever  ;  and  on  the  first  of 
April  he  fell  a  victim  to  his  own  disinter- 
estedness, expiring  in  the  midst  of  his  grief- 
stricken  family.  This  worthy  magistrate 
died  like  a  Christian  hero,  faithful  to  the 
lessons  of  virtue  early  inculcated  on  his 
mind  by  a  pious  and  affectionate  mother. 


HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE. 

STANDING  on  the  banks 
of  the  Settle,  in  Lorraine, 
(France,)  there  is  a  little 
village  called  Vic,  which 
is  almost  unknown  to  the 
rest  of  the  world,  being  several  leagues  from 
Nancy.  The  river  runs  through  the  street, 
and  is  generally  so  shallow  as  to  be  fordable 
in  some  places,  but  after  a  heavy  rain,  it 
will  rise  rapidly  and  do  a  great  deal  of 
mischief. 

(39) 


40  HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE. 

In  this  village  lived  a  man  who  seemed 
to  have  been  placed  there  expressly  by 
Providence,  for  the  succour  of  the  inhabit- 
ants in  times  of  distress.  Joseph  Ignace, 
called  Naxi5  was  a  simple  boatman,  and  at 
times  a  hat  maker ;  he  had  before  been  a 
soldier. 

So  much  was  he  in  the  habit  of  lending  his 
assistance  io  those  who  were  in  danger  from 
the  sudden  rise  of  the  waters,  that  he  came 
to  be  considered  as  their  guardian.  If  any 
accident  happened,  the  first  idea  which 
arose,  W7as  to  send  for  Joseph  Ignace.  Peo- 
ple had  but  to  say  "  If  Joseph  were  only 


HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE.  4^ 

here,"  and  Joseph  was  on  the  spot.  He 
would  leave  his  work,  his  shop,  his  dinner 
table,  or  his  bed,  at  any  moment,  summer 
or  winter,  when  his  assistance  was  needed. 

He  began  this  course  of  disinterested 
goodness  at  an  early  age — -at  eleven  years 
old  he  rescued  a  man  from  imminent 
danger. 

Many  of  his  generous  deeds  are  recounted 
and  well  attested  by  the  inhabitants  of  Vic. 

He  saved  a  man  named  Louis  Paulhin, 
who  fell  into  the  Seille  while  fishing ;  a 
saddler,  Nicholas  Chaussier,  who  also  fell 
in  ;  a  soldier  on  horseback,  some  labourers 


42  HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE. 

in  a  boat,  two  bathers,  a  crazy  man,  an  old 
woman,  and  a  child  of  three  years  old. 

This  child  fell  in  the  river  from  a  bridge. 
Two  of  the  inhabitants  jumped  in  after  it, 
but  not  knowing  how  to  swim,  were  of 
no  avail.  The  child  floated  on  till  it  ap- 
proached a  rapid  and  dangerous  part  of  the 
stream.  They  ran  to  Joseph  Ignace ;  he 
was  sick,  but  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of 
his  wife,  wrho,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  im- 
plored him  not  to  risk  his  health,  "  I  must 
save  the  child/  cried  he,  and  he  did  save 
it,  and  restored  it  to  its  parents. 

The  river  Seille,  swollen  by  heavy  rains, 


HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE.  43 

overflowed  both  its  banks,  covering  the 
streets,  and  rising  several  feet  in  the  houses. 
This  day  was  one  of  triumph  to  Joseph 
Ignace,  whose  assistance  was  implored  on 
all  sides.  Entire  families  owed  their  de- 
liverance to  him  alone.  He  remained  in 
the  water  from  six  in  the  morning  until 
night,  a  period  of  eleven  hours,  during 
which  he  saved  nineteen  persons. 

If  we  lived  in  the  time  when  a  crown  of 
oak  was  given  for  every  life  saved,  Joseph 
Ignace  would,  to  our  certain  knowledge, 
have  thirty-two  to  hang  up  in  his  house. 

A  natural  impulse  leads  us  to  endeavour 


44  HEROISM  OF  JOSEPH  IGNACE. 

to  rescue  the  drowning,  but  when  this  be- 
comes a  habit,  it  ceases  to  be  an  impulse 
of  courage  or  humanity,  and  is  indeed  a 
virtue. 

The  academy  betowed  a  prize  for  vir- 
tuous actions  upon  Joseph  Ignace. 


THE   BOATMAN. 


T  Marseilles,  a  young 
man  named  Robert 
was  waiting  one  day 
in  the  port  for  some 
one  to  engage  his  ser- 
vices as  a  boatman. 
An  unknown  person  at  length  placed  him- 
self in  the  boat :  but  a  moment  after  he 
prepared  to  leave  it,  notwithstanding  the 
presence  of  Robert,  whom  he  did  not  sus- 
pect to  be  the  proprietor  of  it.  He  said, 

(45) 


46  THE  BOATMAN. 

that  since  the  conductor  of  the  boat  did  not 
appear,  he  was  about  to  enter  another. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  young  man  to  him,  "  this 
is  mine — do  you  wish  to  leave  the  harbour?" 

"  No  ;  because  daylight  will  be  over  in 
an  hour.  I  only  wished  to  take  a  few 
turns  on  the  water,  to  profit  by  the  beauty 
and  freshness  of  the  evening.  But  you  do 
not  look  like  a  sailor,  and  you  have  not  the 
manners  of  a  man  in  that  condition." 

"  I  am  not  one  in  reality ;  it  is  only  in 
order  to  make  money  that  I  adopt  this  trade 
on  Sundays  and  holidays " 

"  What !  avaricious  at  your  age  ?     That 


THE  BOATMAN.  47 

trait  disgraces  your  youth,  and  diminishes 
the  interest  which  your  happy  physiognomy 
inspires." 

"Ah,  sir,  if  you  knew  why  I  am  so 
anxious  to  amass  money,  you  would  not  add 
to  my  grief,  by  attributing  to  me  so  vile  a 
character." 

"  I  may  have  wronged  you ;.  but  you 
have  not  explained  yourself  at  all.  Let  us 
take  a  few  turns,  and  you  can  relate  your 
history  to  me." 

The  unknown  sits  down.  "  Well,"  said 
he,  "  tell  me  your  griefs  ;  you  have  disposed 
me  to  take  part  in  them." 


4g  THE  BOATMAN. 

"  I  have  but  one,"  said  the  young  man, 
"  that  of  having  a  father  in  chains,  without 
being  able  to  release  him.  He  was  a 
weaver  in  this  city  ;  he  procured  for  him- 
self, by  his  trade,  and  my  mother's  industry 
at  making  dresses,  an  interest  in  a  vessel, 
which  he  loaded  for  Smyrna.  He  wished 
to  be  present  himself  at  the  unloading  and 
exchange  of  his  merchandise,  and  make  his 
own  choice  of  the  return  cargo.  The  ves- 
sel was  taken  by  a  Barbary  corsair,  and 
conducted  to  Tetuan,  where  my  unhappy 
father  is  in  slavery,  with  the  rest  of  the 
ship's  company.  Two  thousand  crowns 


THE  BOATMAN.  49 

are  necessary  for  his  ransom  ;  but  as  he 
had  exhausted  all  his  money,  in  order  to 
make  his  enterprise  more  important  and 
profitable,  we  are  very  far  from  having  that 
sum.  However,  my  mother  and  sisters 
work  night  and  day  ;  I  do  the  same  at  my 
master's  as  a  jeweller,  which  trade  I  have 
adopted ;  and  I  also  try  to  make  some  profit 
as  you  see,  on  Sundays  and  holidays.  We 
are  economical  even  in  the  most  necessary 
things ;  one  small  room  is  our  wrhole  dwell- 
ing-place. I  thought  at  first  of  going  to 
take  my  father's  place,  and  of  delivering  him 
by  loading  myself  with  his  irons.  I  was 


50  THE  BOATMAN. 

on  the  point  of  putting  this  design  into 
practice,  when  my  mother,  who  was  in- 
formed of  it,  (I  know  not  how,)  assured 
me  that  the  idea  was  as  impracticable  as 
visionary,  and  forbade  all  the  Eastern  cap- 
tains to  take  me  on  board." 

"  Do  you  ever  receive  any  information 
about  your  father  ?  Do  you  know  who  is 
his  master  at  Tetuan,  and  what  treatment 
he  receives  ?" 

"  His  master  is  the  overseer  of  the  king's 
gardens.  He  is  humanely  treated,  and  his 
work  is  not  above  his  strength  ;  but  we 
are  not  with  him  to  console  him,  and  to 


THE  BOATMAN.  51 

lighten  his  captivity.  He  is  far  from  us, 
from  a  cherished  wife,  and  from  three 
children,  whom  he  always  loved  with 
tenderness.5' 

"  What  is  he  called  at  Tetuan  ? 

"He  has  not  changed  his  name.  He  is 
called  Robert,  as  at  Marseilles." 

"  Robert  at  the  overseer's  of  the  king's 
garden  ?" 

"  Yes  sir." 

"  Your  misfortunes  touch  me  ;  your  filial 
affection  merits,  and  I  dare  to  prophecy,  a 
better  fate,  which  I  sincerely  wish  you. 
While  enjoying  this  gentle  breeze,  my 


52 


THE  BOATMAN. 


friend,  do  not  think  it  hard  that  I  am  sc 
tranquil  about  it." 

When  night  came,  Robert  was  ordered 
to  land  ;  and  as  the  unknown  left  the  boat, 
he  placed  a  purse  in  his  hands,  and,  with- 
out giving  him  time  to  thank  him,  went 
hastily  away.  In  this  purse  were  eight 
double  louis  d'ors,  and  ten  half  crowns  in 
silver.  Such  generosity  gave  the  young 
man  the  highest  opinion  of  him  who  was 
capable  of  it.  In  vain  he  endeavoured  to 
find  and  thank  him. 

Six  weeks  after  this  event,  this  honest 
family,  who  continued  to  work  without 


THE  BOATMAN.  53 

relaxation,  in  order  to  complete  the  sum 
they  needed,  were  eating  a  frugal  dinner, 
composed  of  bread  and  dried  almonds, 
when  they  saw  Robert,  the  father,  enter. 
What  was  the  astonishment  of  his  wife  and 
children,  what  their  transports  of  joy,  can 
easily  be  imagined.  The  good  Robert 
throws  himself  into  their  arms,  and  ex- 
hausts himself  in  thanks  for  the  fifty  louis 
that  were  counted  out  to  him  when  he 
embarked  in  the  vessel  at  Tetuan,  in  which 
his  passage  was  paid  for  in  advance,  and  for 
the  clothes  with  which  he  was  furnished. 


54  THE  BOATMAN. 

He   does   not   know  how  to  be    grateful 
enough  for  such  zeal  and  love. 

A  new  surprise  astonished  this  family : 
they  looked  at  each  other.  The  mother 
was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  She 
imagines  that  it  is  her  son  who  had  done 
all  this.  She  relates  to  his  father  how,  ever 
since  the  beginning  of  his  slavery,  he  had 
wished  to  take  his  place,  and  how  she  had 
prevented  it.  Six  thousand  francs  were 
necessary  for  his  ransom.  "We  have," 
continued  she,  "  a  little  more  than  half  of 
it ;  of  which  the  best  part  is  the  fruit  of 
his  work.  He  must  have  found  friends 


THE  BOATMAN.  gg 

who  have  aided  him."  Suddenly  silent 
and  thoughtful,  the  father  becomes  alarmed. 
Then  addressing  his  son,  "Unfortunate 
creature,  what  have  you  done  ?  How  can 
I  owe  my  deliverance  to  you  without  re- 
gretting it  ?  How  can  it  be  a  secret  from 
your  mother,  if  obtained  virtuously  ?  At 
your  age,  son  of  an  unfortunate  man,  of  a 
slave  !  the  resources  which  you  have  used 
were  not  honestly  procured.  I  shudder  to 
think  that  filial  love  may  have  made  you 
culpable.  Tell  me  the  whole  truth  ;  and 
let  us  die,  if  you  have  ceased  to  be  honest." 
"  Be  tranquil,  father,"  answered  the 


56 


THE  BOATMAN. 


young  man,  embracing  him  ;  "  your  son  is 
not  unworthy  of  that  title  ;  nor  happy 
enough  to  have  proved  to  you  how  dear 
you  are  to  him.  I  know  our  benefactor. 
Do  you  remember,  mother,  the  unknown, 
who  gave  me  the  purse  ?  He  asked  me  a 
great  many  questions.  I  will  pass  my  life 
in  seeking  him  out.  I  will  find  him  and 
he  shall  come  to  enjoy  the  sight  of  the 
effect  of  his  beneficence."  He  then  related 
to  his  father  the  anecdote  of  the  unknown, 
and  reassured  him  on  the  ground  of  his 
fears. 

Returned  to  his  family,  Robert   found 


THE  BOATMAN.  5-7 

friends  and  assistance.  His  most  sanguine 
expectations  were  realized.  At  the  end  of 
two  years  he  had  acquired  a  comfortable 
living.  His  children,  whom  he  had  es- 
tablished, shared  their  happiness  with  him 
and  his  wife;  and  his  enjoyment  would 
have  been  without  alloy  if  the  continual 
researches  of  his  son  had  been  able  to  dis- 
cover where  their  benefactor,  who  eluded 
the  gratitude,  and  their  washes,  was.  He 
at  last  meets  him  one  Sunday  morning 
walking  alone  near  the  beach.  "  Ah  !  my 
guardian  angel  \"  It  was  all  he  could  utter 


58  THE  BOATMAN. 

while  throwing  himself  at  his  feet,  where 
he  fell  senseless. 

The  unknown  hastened  to  aid  him,  and 
ask  the  cause  of  his  condition.  "  What  sir, 
can  you  be  ignorant  of  it  ?  Have  you  for- 
gotten Robert  and  his  unfortunate  family, 
whom  you  awakened  to  life  by  restoring 
the  father  ?" 

"  You  mistake  me,  my  friend ;  I  do  not 
know  you  ;  you  cannot  know  me,  a  stran- 
ger at  Marseilles ;  I  have  only  been  here  a 
few  days." 

"  All  that  may  be  true ;  but  do  you  not 
remember  being  here  twenty-six  months 


THE  BOATMAN.  59 

ago  ?  Do  you  not  remember  the  promenade 
on  the  beach,  the  interest  you  took  in  my 
misfortunes,  the  numerous  questions  you 
asked  me  to  enlighten  you,  and  give  you 
the  information  necessary  for  your  becom- 
ing our  benefactor?  My  father's  liberator, 
can  you  forget  that  you  are  the  saviour  of 
his  entire  family,  who  desire  nothing  more 
than  your  presence.  Do  not  refuse  their 
wishes,  but  come  and  see  the  happy  per- 
sons you  have  made.  Come  !" 

"  My  friend,  I  assure  you,  you  are  mis 
taken." 

"No   sir,   I   do    not   mistake    you    at 


60  THE  BOATMAN. 

all.  Your  features  are  too  deeply  engraved 
for  me  ever  to  be  deceived.  Come,  for 
pity's  sake  !"  At  the  same  time,  he  took 
him  by  the  arm  and  dragged  him  along 
with  a  kind  of  violence.  A  multitude  of 
people  assembled  round  them.  Then  the 
unknown,  in  a  grave  and  firm  tone  said, 
"Sir,  this  scene  begins  to  be  fatiguing. 
What  resemblance  has  occasioned  your 
error  ?  Recall  your  senses,  and  return  to 
your  family  to  enjoy  the  tranquillity  which 
you  appear  to  have  received." 

"  What  cruelty,"  cried  the  young  Robert ; 
"  the  benefactor  of  this  family,  why  change, 


THE  BOATMAN.  gj 

by  your  resistance,  the  happiness  it  owes 
only  to  you  ?  Do  I  remain  in  vain  at  your 
feet  ?  Will  you  be  so  inflexible  as  to  refuse 
the  tribute  which  we  have  reserved  so  long 
for  your  kindnesss  ?  And  you  who  are 
present,  you  whom  the  trouble  and  disorder 
in  which  you  see  me,  ought  to  touch,  unite 
with  me  in  supplicating  the  author  of  my 
happiness  to  come  and  contemplate  writh 
me  his  own  work." 

At  these  wrords,  the  unknown  appears  to 
struggle  writh  his  feelings  ;  but  then  calling 
together  all  his  strength  and  all  his  cou- 
rage, to  resist  the  seduction  of  the  sweet 


g2  THE  BOATMAN. 

enjoyment  offered  him,  he  escapes  like  an 
arrow  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  and  dis- 
appears in  an  instant. 

This  unknown  would  have  remained  so 
to  this  day,  if  his  business  acquaintances, 
having  found  among  his  papers  after  the 
death  of  their  owner,  a  bill  of  six  hundred 
thousand  livres,  sent  to  Mr.  Main,  at  Cadiz, 
had  not  asked  an  account  of  this  from  cu- 
riosity, since  the  paper  was  torn  and  crum- 
pled like  those  intended  to  be  burnt.  The 
famous  banker  answered,  that  he  had  used 
it  to  deliver  a  native  of  Marseilles,  called 
Robert,  a  slave  at  Tetuan,  according  to  the 


THE  BOATMAN. 


63 


orders  of  Charles  of  Secondat,  Baron  of 
Montesquieu.  It  is  known  that  Mon- 
tesquieu loved  to  travel,  and  that  he  often 
visited  his  sister,  Madame  d'Henricourt, 
married  at  Versailles. 
.,. 


JOHN  HOWARD. 


to  a  liberal  fortune, 
and  with  every  inducement 
around  him  to  a  life  of  plea- 
sure or  of  study,  according 
to  his  fancy,  this  extraordinary  man,  while 
still  young,  abandoned  these  pursuits,  and 
spent  his  life  in  succouring  those  who  were 
imprisoned. 

He  himself  had  known  the  horrors  of 
captivity.  On  his  way  to  Lisbon,  the 
Hanover  was  attacked  by  a  French  corsair, 

(64) 


JOHN  HOWARD. 


65 


and  the  crew  obliged  to  undergo  fearful 
sufferings.  Still  later,  in  his  capacity  of  high 
sheriff  of  Bedford,  his  duties  required  con- 
tinual attendance  in  the  prisons  committed 
to  his  charge.  He  beheld  a  number  of 
people  heaped  together  in  a  narrow,  dark, 
and  unhealthy  room,  dying  under  the  in- 
fluence of  a  contagious  disease,  called  the 
jail  fever. 

He  saw  some  of  them  in  a  state  of  in- 
toxication and  vice,  deprived  of  all  moral 
or  religious  aid.  At  this  spectacle  his  soul 
was  touched,  and  his  vocation  manifested 
itself.  He  went  over  the  other  English 

5 


66  JOHN  HOWARD. 

prisons,  making  an  assiduous  and  judicious 
investigation  of  the  treatment  of  the  pri- 
soners. Every  where  he  witnessed  the 
same  evils.  He  wrote  an  account,  which 
he  presented  to  the  government,  wherein 
he  said — 

"  In  condemning  the  criminal  to  irons, 
you  have  intended  to  reform  him,  in  punish- 
ing him  ;  not  to  render  him  worse.  What 
is  the  punishment  inflicted  by  you  on  those 
whom  you  pretend  to  think  still  innocent, 
on  debtors,  on  young  men,  and  on  mere 
children,  whom  you  bring  up  in  crime  ?" 
His  statement  was  heard,  and  thanks  voted 


JOHN  HOWARD. 


67 


to  this  generous  man,  and  better  still,  two 
bills  were  passed  for  the  commencement 
of  the  improvement  suggested  by  him. 

Howard  did  not  stop  here.  From  a 
patriotic  movement,  he  proceeded  to  one 
of  humanity.  He  left  his  country,  his 
family,  his  estate,  renounced  his  habits,  and 
explored  the  world,  a  voluntary  and  gene- 
rous missionary  of  public  benevolence,  bear- 
ing with  him  consolation  and  assistance  for 
the  suffering,  advice  to  those  in  authority, 
and  the  treasure  of  experience  to  those  who 
wished  to  imitate  his  example.  Let  us  hear 
his  own  words,  when,  after  again  visiting 


68  JOHN  HOWARD. 

the  London  prisons,  he  proposed  a  bill,  the 
principal  part  of  which  was  granted  him. 

"  At  the  time  of  my  first  visits  to  pri- 
sons, where  the  jail  fever  prevailed,  I  was 
always  told  that  it  was  brought  from  those 
of  London.  In  what  London  prison  does 
there  exist  a  proper  separation  between  the 
prisoners,  between  the  young  and  those 
hardened  in  vice,  between  the  accused  and 
the  condemned  ?  Where  do  we  behold 
solitary  cells  in  which  the  guilty  may  be 
left  to  reflection  ?  Where  are  the  ill  and 
the  dying  tended  as  they  should  be  ?  Where 
are  there  regulations  for  the  conduct  of 


JOHN  HOWARD.  59 

jailers,  and  the  treatment  of  those  awaiting 
their  trial  ?  In  what  prison  do  we  not  hear 
oaths,  not  only  from  the  prisoners  but  from 
the  turnkeys  ?  Where  is  Sunday  regarded  ? 
and  although  jailers  have  been  forbidden  to 
provide  the  prisoners  with  drink,  yet  are 
there  not  venders  of  liquor  habitually 
brought  inside  the  prison  walls,  and  al- 
lowed to  sell  to  them  ?  In  the  last  fourteen 
years,  how  many  prisoners  and  jailers  have 
perished  from  the  effects  of  drunkenness  ? 
How  many,  who,  before  being  admitted  in 
either  capacity  into  a  prison,  were  men  of 
temperate  habits  ?" 


70  JOHN  HOWARD. 

"If  I  nave  been  able/'  says  he,  "to  de- 
nounce some  of  these  evils,  to  point  out 
their  causes,  and  their  remedies,  I  owe  it 
to  a  scrupulous  and  continual  attention, 
which  has  supplied  the  want  of  talent  in 
me.  I  hand  over  to  my  country  the  result 
of  my  past  labours.  My  intention  is  to 
leave  here  now  for  Russia,  Turkey,  and 
some  other  countries,  going  as  far  as  the 
Levant.  I  know  that  I  shall  incur  dan- 
gers, but  I  trust  to  Providence,  who  has 
hitherto  preserved  me,  and  I  abandon  my- 
self joyfully  to  the  decrees  of  his  infallible 
wisdom.  If  it  i?  his  pleasure  to  cut  the  thread 


JOHN  HOWARD.  7! 

of  my  life,  during  my  absence,  I  beg  those 
whom  I  am  now  leaving,  not  to  impute  my 
conduct  to  a  rash  enthusiasm,  but  to  its  true 
motives,  to  a  firm  conviction  of  duty,  and 
a  sincere  desire  to  be  more  useful  to  my 
fellow-creatures,  than  I  could  ever  have 
been  in  the  retirement  of  private  life." 

Independently  of  his  repeated  excursions 
to  various  parts  of  Great  Britain,  he  crossed 
the  ocean  at  least  five  times,  to  visit  by 
turns,  France,  Germany,  Holland,  Denmark, 
Sweden,  Poland,  Russia,  Italy,  Spain,  Por- 
tugal, and  Turkey ;  and  this  time  after 
time,  in  order  to  see  the  fruit  of  his 


72  JOHN  HOWARD. 

former  instructions  and  to  communicate 
new  ones. 

So  deeply  interested  in  the  sufferings  of 
the  condemned  criminal,  he  felt  a  still 
greater  commiseration  for  those  of  old  age 
and  childhood  in  poverty,  to  be  met  with 
in  various  charitable  asylums.  Howard  ne- 
glected none  of  these  ;  he  approached  the 
bed  of  sickness,  entering  into  conversation 
with  the  overseers  and  those  under  them 
in  such  establishments. 

The  most  fearful  evils  were  those  to 
which  his  most  attentive  investigation  was 
directed.  At  Constantinople,  in  the  Levant, 


JOHN  HOWARD.  73 

he  was  seen  in  the  midst  of  the  plague- 
stricken  populace.  Studying  the  construc- 
tion and  arrangements  of  the  lazarettos, 
where  the  creatures  were  shut  up  to  guard 
against  infection,  nothing  escaped  him — 
situation,  interior,  distribution  of  rooms,  &c., 
circulation  of  air,  access  of  light,  clothing, 
nourishment,  cleanliness,  discipline,  &c.  &c.9 
and  religious  exercises,  all  interested  him. 
His  medical  knowledge  assisted  him  in  di- 
recting the  treatment  of  the  sick,  and  pro- 
posing ameliorations. 

In   1789  Howard  visited  Russia  again, 
and  was  seen  in  Moscow,  where  more  than 


74  JOHN  HOWARD. 

seventy  thousand  had  been  taken  to  the 
hospital  the  year  before. 

"  I  hope,"  said  he,  in  one  of  his  letters, 
"  to  carry  the  torch  of  philanthropy  into 
these  distant  countries."  He  learned  that 
Crimea  was  desolated  by  cruel  epidemics, 
that  succour  was  needed,  that  men  were 
perishing  in  vast  numbers ;  he  hurried  to 
Witosoka,  to  Cherson,  and  to  Saint  Nicho- 
las. A  fearful  spectacle  offered  itself  to  his 
eyes  ;  he  watched  by  the  bedside  of  the 
infected,  and  himself  fell  a  victim  to  it,  on 
the  20th  of  January,  1790. 

The  last  words  written  by  him.  in  his 


JOHN  HOWARD. 


75 


journal,  were  the  following  : — "  I  am  a 
stranger  here,  and  a  pilgrim,  but  I  hope,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  lo  be  one  day  in  a  coun- 
try inhabited  by  my  parents  and  the  friends 
of  my  youth ;  I  hope  to  rejoin  these  souls, 
and  to  be  for  ever  with  my  God." 

So  generous  to  others,  his  private  habits 
were  austere ;  he  made  use  of  neither 
meat,  nor  W7ine,  living  upon  bread,  fruit, 
potatoes,  butter,  and  tea.  He  avoided  places 
of  public  amusement  and  company;  "I 
find,"  said  he, "  more  pleasure  in  doing  my 
duty,  than  in  any  worldly  amusements." 
A  holy  indignation  against  the  difficulties 


76  JOHN  HOWARD. 

he  met  with,  often  expressed  itself  in  his 
conversation.  The  Emperor  Joseph  II.  re- 
ceived from  his  lips  some  severe  truths,  on 
the  suhject  of  the  hospitals  and  prisons  in 
Vienna.  The  cause  of  misfortune  was 
never  pleaded  with  more  persuasive  elo- 
quence. 

A  subscription  was  made  in  England,  for 
the  purpose  of  erecting  a  statue.  When 
this  came  to  his  knowledge,  he  wrote  to 
those  who  had  set  it  on  foot,  to  have  the 
proposal  withdrawn,  for  it  was  one  that 
displeased  him.  The  monument  in  Saint 
Paul's  church  was  raised  to  him  after  his 


JOHN  HOWARD. 


77 


death.  Another  was  raised  to  him  in  Crimea. 
The  illustrious  orator  Burke,  delivered  a 
beautiful  improvisation  to  his  honour;  but 
his  noblest  monument  remains  in  his  great 
work. 


..          .  ....   t       ';:     •        - 

THE   TRUANT. 


THE  boy  that  you  see  in 
the  picture  has  been  play- 
ing truant.  His  mother 
has  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
with  him.  She  is  poor,  and 
has  to  work  for  her  living,  and  her  husband 
is  dead ;  so  that  she  has  not  much  time  to 
watch  her  bad  son.  Instead  of  pitying  his 
poor  mother,  this  boy  does  all  he  can  to 
vex  her  ;  and  when  he  is  in  the  street,  he 
says  many  bad  words,  and  talks  about  be- 
(78) 


THE  TRUANT. 


coming  a  great  robber  when  he  becomes  a 
man.  One  day  she  dressed  him  nicely, 
gave  him  his  breakfast,  and  sent  him  to 
school,  telling  him  not  to  stop  or  he  would 
be  late.  Then  she  sat  down  to  sew,  while 
her  little  girl  played  near  her  with  a  doll. 
By  and  by  some  one  came  and  told  her 
that  her  boy  was  playing  in  the  street.  She 
had  to  leave  her  work,  and  go  out  and 
hunt  a  long  while  before  she  could  find 
him.  When  she  saw  him  it  brought  tears 
to  her  eyes.  He  W7as  playing  with  some 
ragged  boys  ;  his  clothes,  which  she  had 
fixed  so  nice,  were  dirtied  and  torn,  and  he 


80  THE  TRUANT. 

had  lost  his  hat.  He  tried  to  run  away, 
but  she  brought  him  home  and  would  not 
send  him  to  school  any  more  that  week. 
It  will  be  a  long  while  before  she  can  buy 
him  another  nice  hat,  or  fix  his  clothes  as 
nice  as  they  wrere  before.  How  wicked 
he  was  to  use  his  poor  mother  so  ill  ;  I  am 
afraid  he  will  come  to  some  bad  end. 


PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BRO- 
THERS. 

JBOUT  the  14th  of 
August,  1652,  a  dog 
came  to  the  house  of 
Toxen,  in  the  parish 
of  Gulbrandsal  in  Nor- 
way, howling  and  moan- 
ing, and  in  the  most  famished  condition.  It 
was  immediately  recognized  to  be  the  faith- 
ful attendant  of  two  brothers,  named  Olave 
and  Andrew  Engelbrechtsen,  who  had  four 
teen  days  before  set  out  from  Toxen,  the 

6  (81) 


£2  PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BROTHERS, 

place  of  their  nativity,  on  a  hunting  excur- 
sion among  the  high  mountains  which  sepa- 
rate Gulbrandsal  from  the  province  of 
Valders.  From  the  grief  which  the  poor 
animal  displayed,  the  friends  of  the  Engel- 
brechtsens  naturally  concluded  that  some 
misfortune  had  befallen  them.  A  man 
was  therefore  immediately  despatched  to 
the  mountains  in  quest  of  the  wanderers. 
Two  days  he  roamed  about  without  dis- 
covering any  trace  of  them  ;  but  on  the 
third,  arriving  at  the  Lake  of  Ref,  he  found 
an  empty  skiff  on  its  banks,  in  which  he 
rowed  to  a  very  small  islet  in  the  midsi  of 


PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BROTHERS.  S3 

it,  and  there  he  saw  some  garments  lying, 
which  he  knew  to  belong  to  the  brothers. 
On  looking  around,  however,  he  saw  no 
trace  of  any  human  being ;  and  the  island 
being  so  small,  (only  sixteen  paces  long, 
and  eight  broad)  that  the  whole  surface 
could  be  comprehended  within  one  glance, 
he  concluded  that  the  young  men  had  not 
been  there  for  a  considerable  time,  and  re- 
turned to  Toxen  with  intelligence  that  they 
were  probably  drowned. 

The  very  day  after,  however,  some 
hunters  on  horseback,  happening  to  arrive 
on  the  banks  of  Lake  Ref,  were  surprised 


84 


PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BROTHERS. 


by  the  cries,  faint  yet  distinct,  of  some 
person  on  the  little  islet.  They  leaped 
into  the  skiff  which  lay  on  the  beach,  and 
on  reaching  the  islet,  found  the  two  bro- 
thers there,  reduced  to  the  last  stage  of 
human  wretchedness.  They  were  imme- 
diately conveyed  ashore,  and  home. 

When  able  to  give  an  account  of  their 
adventures,  the  brothers  related,  that,  as 
they  were  on  their  return  home  from  their 
hunting  excursion,  they  first  rowed  to  the 
islet  in  Lake  Ref,  in  order  to  take  up  a  net 
which  they  had  set  there.  Whilst  linger- 
ing there,  a  sudden  storm  arose  at  east, 


PRESERVATION  OF  T\\  O  BROTHERS.  §5 

the  violence  of  which  caused  the  skiff 
to  break  loose,  and  drive  to  the  opposite 
shore. 

As  neither  of  the  brothers  could  swim, 
they  saw  themselves  thus  exposed  to  the 
danger  of  perishing  by  hunger,  for  the  islet 
was  altogether  barren  ;  and  they  had  be- 
sides to  endure  all  the  hardships  of  the 
weather,  w7hich  even  in  the  month  of  Au- 
gust, was,  in  the  climate  of  Norway,  in- 
clement, more  especially  during  the  night. 
The  account  they  gave  of  the  manner  in 
which  they  subsisted  on  some  herbs  provi- 
dentially raised  up  to  them,  is  so  piously 


85  PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BROTHERS. 

marvellous,  that  the  only  conclusion  we  can 
draw  from  it  is,  that  they  were  preserved 
by  Providence  in  a  way  which  they  had 
not  sense  enough  left  to  describe.  It  ap- 
pears that  they  had  built  a  little  hut  of 
stones,  sufficient  to  lie  down  in,  yet  not  of 
elevation  enough  to  attract  the  notice  of 
a  superficial  observer  ;  and  under  this  they 
had  escaped  the  vigilance  of  the  messenger 
who  was  sent  in  search  of  them.  On  the 
twelfth  day  of  their  seclusion,  both  the 
brothers  having  given  themselves  up  to  de- 
spair, Andrew,  the  younger,  with  what  re- 
mains of  strength  he  possessed,  cut  out  on 


PRESERVATION  OF   TWO  BROTHERS.  g? 

some  pieces  of  timber,  most  exposed  to 
view,  a  concise  relation  of  their  unhappy 
fate ;  and  the  text  on  which  he  desired 
their  funeral  sermon  might  be  preached, 
from  Psalm  Ixxiii  v.  23,  27. 

"  23.  Nevertheless,  I  am  always  by  thee : 
for  thou  hast  holden  me  by  my  right  hand." 

"  27.  For  lo,  they  that  forsake  thee  shall 
perish." 

After  this,  the  brothers  mutually  encou- 
raged each  other  in  the  hope  of  eternal  fe- 
licity, to  patience  and  perseverance  in  faith  ; 
and  totally  despairing  of  all  temporal  relief, 


88  PRESERVATION  OF  TWO  BROTHERS. 

as  their   sole   support   had   failed,  recom- 
mended themselves  to  God. 

When  unexpectedly  restored  to  hopes  of 
life,  the  elder  brother  could  eat  very  little 
of  the  food  offered  to  him ;  and  the  little 
he  did  take  threw  him  into  such  a  state  of 
sickness,  that  he  was  confined  for  eight 
days  to  bed.  He  survived  his  perilous 
situation,  however,  thirty-seven  years.  The 
younger  brother  suffered  less  inconvenience, 
and  in  the  year  1691,  drew  up  an  account 
of  the  case  of  both. 


THE  CALIPH  RECLAIMED. 

AKKAM,  the  son  and  suc- 
cessor of  Abdoubrahman 
III.,  wanting  to  enlarge 
his  palace,  proposed  to 
purchase  from  a  poor 
woman  a  piece  of  ground  that  lay  contigu- 
ous to  it ;  and  when  she  could  not  be  pre- 
vailed on  to  part  with  the  inheritance  of 
her  ancestors,  Hakkam's  officers  took  by 
force  what  they  could  not  otherwise  ob- 
tain. The  poor  woman  applied  to  Ibn- 

(89) 


90  THE  CALIPH  RECLAIMED. 

Bechir,  the  chief  magistrate  of  Corduba, 
for  justice.  The  case  was  delicate  and 
dangerous,  and  Bechir  concluded  that  the 
ordinary  methods  of  proceeding  would  be 
ineffectual,  if  not  fatal.  He  mounted  his 
ass,  and  taking  a  large  sack  with  him,  rode 
to  the  palace  of  the  caliph.  The  prince 
happened  to  be  sitting  in  a  pavilion  that 
had  been  erected  in  the  poor  woman's 
garden.  Bechir,  with  his  sack  in  his  hand, 
advanced  towards  him,  and  after  prostrating 
himself,  desired  the  caliph  would  permit 
him  to  fill  his  sack  with  earth  in  that  gar- 
den. Hakkam  showed  some  surprise  at  his 


THE  CALIPH  RECLAIMED.  9J 

appearance  and  request,  but  allowed  him  to 
fill  his  sack.  When  this  was  done  the 
magistrate  entreated  the  prince  to  assist 
him  in  laying  the  burden  on  his  ass.  This 
extraordinary  request  surprised  Hakkam 
still  more ;  but  he  only  told  the  judge  it 
was  too  heavy,  he  could  not  bear  it.  "  Yet 
this  sack/5  replied  Bechir,  with  a  noble  as- 
surance, "  this  sack,  which  you  think  too 
heavy  to  bear,  contains  but  a  small  portion 
of  that  ground  which  you  took  by  violence 
from  the  right  owner.  How  then  will  you 
be  able  at  the  day  of  judgment  to  support 
the  weight  of  the  whole  ?"  The  remon- 


92  THE  CALIPH  RECLAIMED. 

strance  was  effectual ;  and  Hakkam  with- 
out delay  restored  the  ground,  with  the 
buildings  upon  it,  to  the  former  proprietor. 


THE  BOSTON  BOYS. 


r[HE  British  troops  which 
were  sent  to  Boston, 
to  keep  that  rebellious 
towrn  in  order,  were 
every  where  received 
with  the  most  une- 
quivocal marks  of  anger  and  detestation. 

The  insolence  and  indiscretion  of  some 
subaltern  officers  increased  the  ill  will  of 
the  citizens  ;  and  vexations  and  quarrels 
multiplied  daily.  At  this  period  of  public 

(93) 


THE  BOSTON  BOYS. 


exasperation,  the  boys  were  much  in  the 
habit  of  building  hills  of  snow,  and  sliding 
from  them  to  the  pond  in  the  common. 
The  English  troops,  from  the  mere  love  of 
tantalizing,  destroyed  all  their  labours. 
They  complained  of  the  injury,  and  indus- 
triously set  about  repairs.  However,  when 
they  returned  from  school,  they  found  the 
snow  hills  again  levelled.  Several  of  them 
now  waited  upon  the  British  captain  to  in- 
form him  of  the  misconduct  of  his  soldiers. 
No  notice  was  taken  of  their  complaint, 
and  the  soldiers  every  day  grew  more  pro- 
vokingly  insolent.  At  last,  they  resolved 


THE  BOSTON  BOYS.  95 

to  call  a  meeting  of  all  the  largest  boys  in 
town,  and  wait  upon  General  Gage,  com- 
mander-in-chief  the  British  forces.  When 
shown  into  his  presence,  he  asked,  with 
some  surprise,  why  so  many  children  had 
called  to  see  him.  "We  come,  sir,"  said 
the  foremost,  "  to  claim  a  redress  of  griev- 
ances." "  What !  have  your  fathers  been 
teaching  you  rebellion,  and  sent  you  here 
to  utter  it  ?"  "  Nobody  sent  us,  sir,"  re- 
plied the  speaker,  "we  have  never  injured 
or  insulted  your  troops  ;  but  they  have 
trodden  down  our  snow  hills,  and  broken 
the  ice  on  our  skating  ground.  We 


„  THE  BOSTON  BOYS. 

9o 

complained,  and  they  called  us  young 
rebels,  and  told  us  to  help  ourselves  if  we 
could.  We  told  the  captain  of  this,  and 
he  laughed  at  us.  Yesterday  our-  works 
were  a  third  time  destroyed,  and  now  we 
will  bear  it  no  longer."  General  Gage 
looked  at  them  with  undisguised  admiration, 
and  turning  to  an  officer  who  stood  near 
him,  he  exclaimed,  "  Good  heavens !  the 
very  children  draw  in  a  love  of  liberty  with 
the  air  they  breathe  ;" — and  added,  "  You 
may  go,  my  brave  boys ;  and  be  assured  that 
if  any  of  my  troops  hereafter  molest  you, 
they  shall  be  severely  punished." 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

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newed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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Berkeley 


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Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc.    > 

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T.  M.  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off.  Z 


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